


‘Cause I’m still drunk (drunk on your love)

by larrycaring



Series: Drunk In Love [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Adult Harry, Adult Liam, Adult Louis, Adult Niall, After Party, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, House Party, M/M, Party, Partying, because I mean... Larry; duh, it's all happy and not heavy stuff, please remember to drink with moderation, soul mates, twin flames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring
Summary: Person A: I wasn’t that drunk last night.Person B: You were flirting with Person C last night.Person A: So? He’s my boyfriend.Person B: You asked him if he was singlePerson B: And cried when he said he wasn’t.or an AU where Louis is a bit drunk at a party and cries when Harry tells him he is not single. (But little does Drunk Louis know.)





	‘Cause I’m still drunk (drunk on your love)

**Author's Note:**

> Please, remember to drink with moderation. Be safe, be sensible, be responsible. Love.
> 
> And don't ask me why I wrote this, I don't know. I just wanted to write something when I saw this Person A/B/C thing.
> 
> Title lyrics from the song Drunk on Your Love, by Brett Eldredge.
> 
> Many thanks to my friend Liz (twitter: [@Dont_Stop_Larry](https://twitter.com/Dont_Stop_Larry) // AO3: [Dont_Stop_Larry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_Stop_Larry)) for being my beta. Please, check out her fics! :)

_ One taste from your lips knocked me out just like a drug _

_ The rest of the night's kind of blurry _

Louis stumbles and catches himself just in time against the nearest wall. He almost knocks his head, but thankfully escapes that particular catastrophe. He groans in resentment and glares at the wall, as if the wall itself was at fault. Seriously, it _was_ in Louis’ way the entire time.

Louis’ disastrous adventure attracts no applause from surviving a wall, but instead gets him a chorus of raucous laughter. He groans again, swirling on the spot to face his friend Niall.

Bad idea. He should have not turned around that fast. The room is spinning.

“Are ye gran’ or are ye goin’ to throw up?” Niall asks through his grin, his Irish accent sounding more annoying to Louis than usual. It made sense though — Niall’s accent always gets thicker when he is drunk.

“‘M good,” Louis answers, waving a hand. His face visibly lights up when his eyes fall on the kitchen island, where beer has been restocked.

Niall follows his gaze, grinning in turn. “Gran', let’s drink some more, then!”

But then Louis’ bright expression falls, a pout replacing it instead. “No. Noooo, I was tryin’ ta get ta Haz,” he explains to his friend, voice petulant. 

Niall rolls his eyes. “‘Course yer were.”

“Need t’find ‘arry,” Louis insists, his slurred words only making Niall chuckle in response as he crosses his arms over his chest, apparently not at all eager to help Louis in his quest. “Need ta…”

“Gran’,” Niall interrupts with another roll of his eyes, too used to Louis’ intoxicated antics. He and Harry have always been rather clingy with each other, and unfortunately it’s even worse when they’re so completely and utterly drunk. Niall really doesn’t need to witness their displays of affection. “Oii, guess I won’t wait for ye… And I’ll drink the rest of the beer without ye. Be careful on yer way out, Lou.”

Louis is already walking away, waving a dismissive hand without looking back at his friend.

**

_Now the sun's peeking through the shades_

_I can't help but laugh_ _'cause I kind of like feeling this way_

_I woke up, up still drunk, drunk_

_On your love, love, on your love, love, love_

Louis opens his eyes with difficulty, blinking way too many times because of the blinding sun. Of course he forgot to close the curtains last night. He groans and decides to close his eyes again for good. He can sleep in a bit longer, can’t he?

But unfortunately he can’t, because then he hears noisy, boisterous laughter downstairs.

Oh, he recognises these guffaws… 

When Louis forces himself out of the bed, it takes him a few more minutes in the bathroom to do his private business and splash his face with water. It doesn’t completely wake him up, but it’s enough for him to give him the motivation to face the aftermath of the party. 

The flat is, surprisingly, in a good state. It’s actually in a very good state, he’d say, because it’s been cleaned. The empty cans that you’d find after a late night party were all taken away, and there are trash bags resting against the wall by the front door, the only proof left that people had even been in the flat at all. 

Louis frowns, and he mentally groans at the gesture, which is only worsening his headache. He needs to take some pain medication, because his hangover-related headache is not something he particularly wants to have right now.

“Ugh, this is the last time I’m drinking,” he mumbles to himself, even though he knows it’s a blatant lie. But eh, no one’s here to hear it.

“There he is,” someone exclaims cheerfully, too chirpy in the morning for Louis’ liking. 

“Niall, you’re being too loud,” he answers as a greeting, rubbing a hand on his face. 

As soon as he drops his hand, a jaunty, amused Harry appears at his side, holding out a glass of water in one hand and a few Advil in the other.

For the first time of the morning (or actually, _afternoon_ ), a smile makes its way onto Louis’ face. “Thanks, babe.”

Harry nods, watching Louis in amusement. Louis doesn’t know why he’s receiving such a look, but he still lets himself get dragged closer when Harry wraps an arm around Louis’ waist. He kisses Louis on the cheek, and Louis wonders what he’s done to receive so much affection.

He makes the mistake of looking over to Niall, who’s watching his friends with a huge stupid grin.

“What?” Louis deadpans, because he knows that look. It’s the look of Niall trying not to say something, but he can’t contain himself and he needs to say it before he explodes.

But Niall only raises his hands in the air at Louis’ forceful tone. “Nathin’,” he answers, but his sly smile tells Louis at once that it’s not nothing. 

Louis narrows his eyes, but decides to drop it. Instead, he prefers to bless his eyes by looking back at a less annoying human being. His boyfriend looks fine, more than fine, actually, and Louis is almost jealous. Like, he’s pretty sure Harry was equally as drunk as him last night. Why is Harry looking so good in the morning? (Afternoon.)

“How long have you been awake?” Louis asks him, deciding to swallow his painkiller, and to his relief, Harry doesn’t let go of him, a blinding adorable smile on his face. His dimple is popping out, and Louis wants to do nothing but touch and kiss it.

Niall coughs. Right, Louis forgot the lad was there.

“For two hours,” Harry answers him with a beam. “Had plenty of time to clean our flat.”

 _“Our”_ … Louis doubts he’ll ever get used to this.

He and Harry have been dating for two years now, and Louis can definitely say that it’s been the best years of his life. He met Harry four years ago, and Louis doesn’t believe love at first sight but he can safely say that as soon as he met Harry, something changed and he knew his life was never going to be the same. And his assumption became true once he let Harry make his way into his heart.

His romantic but very sappy thoughts must be reflecting something specific on his face, because Niall makes a show of coughing and vomiting at the same time, followed by a very clear, “Yer two are so gross.”

Louis makes sure that Niall sees his middle finger.

“D’ya want pancakes?” Harry offers Louis, completely ignoring Niall. Harry has always been so much better than Louis at ignoring Niall’s teasing. 

Louis turns to his boyfriend with a shocked expression, mouth opened. “You had time to clean the lower half of the flat _and_ you even had time to make pancakes?” Before Harry even answers, Louis adds on, in a serious tone, “Marry me.”

Niall laughs so hard he starts choking, coughing for real this time, and Louis may be a little evil but he throws his Irish friend a pleased smirk.

Harry, to his credit, only winks at him, shaking his head fondly. He pulls away from Louis, who _doesn’t_ whine at the loss of contact, and goes to fetch a plate and pancakes for Louis.

Louis loves his boyfriend.

“For yer two to get married,” Niall chimes in, a constant annoying smirk on his face, “yer should be boyfriends first.”

Harry only snorts at Niall’s stupid comment while Louis stares at his irish friend. Because… what?

“What are you talking about, you stupid lad,” scoffs Louis. “We’re already datin’.”

Niall’s eyes light up, as if he was waiting for this exact answer from Louis. Louis is growing more and more confused.

“Oh Jesus,” Niall whispers, chuckling. “Mate, yer were so trollied last night yer don’t even remember.”

Okay. What. Remember what?

But of course, Louis has to defend himself first, because he _wasn’t_ that drunk last night.

“I wasn’t that drunk last night,” he scoffs again, because he really wasn’t. He glances at Harry, who's ignoring their bickering, instead getting busy with applying maple syrup on Louis’ pancakes.

Okay, it’s true, Louis is having trouble remembering what happened last night. Maybe some parts are a bit blurry… Or… Some parts are just nonexistent because he can’t remember, but he… He wasn’t _that_ drunk.

It’s Niall’s turn to scoff. “Dude, yer were flirtin’ with Harry last night.”

_What?_

Louis stares at Niall, before glancing at Harry and then back at Niall. “So? He’s my boyfriend,” he tells Niall on a tone he usually uses on his little siblings when trying to explain them something without losing patience. Niall isn't making any sense. Did he forget Louis and Harry were boyfriends? Maybe he’s the one who was drunk. Maybe he still is drunk.

But Niall laughs even more at Louis’ answer, looking at Louis with an odd expression and a sly smile still on his face. “Yer asked him if he was single…” Right… Louis doesn’t know where he is going with this. “… An’ yer cried when Harry said he wasn’t.”

Louis stares at Niall, who’s now clearly taking the piss and enjoying himself a lot. Then Louis looks at Harry, and his boyfriend chuckles, no longer ignoring the situation and clearly amused.

“Nahhh,” Louis says slowly, waving a hand at Niall. “I did no such thing.”

“Yeah, you did babe,” Harry snorts, and he bites his lips when Louis widens his eyes at him.

Niall is really, really enjoying himself, if his endless laughter is anything to go by. He walks past Louis and pats him on the shoulder. “It'll come back to you.”

And it does come back to Louis.

**

_“‘arry, where’s ‘arry?” Louis singsongs. He’ll probably regret this in the morning, but right now he couldn’t care less._

_He plop downs ungraciously next to Liam on the couch, who apparently was busy chatting with a girl Louis isn’t sure he knows._

_“Where’s ‘arry?” Louis repeats the question, adding a whine at the end just to express how impatient he is to find the love of his life._

_“Um,” Liam drawls out, bottom lip out. He’s looking at Louis with half-exhaustion and half-defeat, as if resigned to his fate of bearing with a drunken Louis. “Probably upstairs. Have you checked upstairs?”_

_Louis shakes his head tiredly, like a kid expressing his discontent at the prospect of going to sleep. “Can't use t’ stairs.”_

_Liam stares at him, before frowning. “Why not?”_

_“T’ stairs are lava, duh.”_

_Liam looks away from Louis, and Louis is pretty sure he’s trying to look at the camera like in The Office. Liam is so dramatic. But Louis doesn’t care anymore, because he’s just spotted Harry._

_“There he is,” Louis sighs in wonder. “He’s so beautiful. Do you think I have my chance? I have to try. He won’t resist my charm,” he babbles, and Liam doesn’t give him an answer, so Louis promptly stands up._

_He can totally charm Harry._

_“‘Ow do, my love,” he says, approaching Harry who’s already watching him with a smile. That’s a good start._

_“Hi, Lou,” Harry beams, and God, his voice sounds so, so mellow. It’s like honey, and if Louis could, he’d bathe in it._

_Okay, time to use all your charms, Tommo._

_“I was wondering,” Louis drawls out, putting a hand on his hip and propping it just for good measure. “Are you single, you pringle?”_

_Harry blinks at him, and then Louis’ smile disappears a little when Harry purses his lips. At the time, it was obvious it was because Harry was holding back a laugh, but right now Louis thinks it's because Harry is trying to think how to break out the news that—_

_“No, I’m sorry. I’m not single,” Harry replies._

_Louis doesn’t register the light tone, or the ghost of smile on Harry’s face. All he is aware of is the heartbreaking sound his heart makes in his chest. His organ is currently falling down through his ribs, and God, it hurts._

_Suddenly he doesn’t see Harry very clearly, and he realises it's because his vision is blurry. Blurry with tears. Oh great, now he’s making a fool of himself even more with stupid tears._

_“Louis?” Harry asks, and Louis thinks he can hear worry in his voice, but he doesn’t want Harry’s pity._

_He masks his pathetic little sob by bringing a hand to his mouth and he's surprised himself with how fast his legs carry him away._

_“Louis, wait!”_

_But Louis leaves the living room, worming his way between the few people still present at the party. Suddenly he doesn’t feel like partying anymore, and he doesn’t care if the stairs are lava. He climbs up the stairs as clumsily as ever, and slams his bedroom door shut without looking back._

**

_“Louis, open the door,” a voice calls out from the other side._

_Louis is sat on the ground, his back against the door. If his life was a movie, there'd probably be a melancholic, sad song playing in the background. But instead there’s David Guetta playing downstairs. Tragic._

_“Louis, come on baby. Let me in.”_

Baby. _How dare he._

_“Is yer man still cryin’?” a second voice inquires, and the tone of it is definitely not as worried a the first one. Instead, the person seems to be entertained more than anything._

_“Stop laughing, Niall,” Harry scowls._

_“He’s way too trollied,” Niall cackles. “Dis is so craic.”_

_There’s a groan, and then another knock at the door. “Louis.”_

_Louis opens his eyes, and the only reason why he actually budges from the door is because he needs the bathroom. As rapidly as he manages to do so, he runs to the toilet and throws up everything._

_He vaguely registers it when the bedroom door flies open (of course Louis hadn’t locked it) and footsteps are heard. Suddenly there’s a hand running through his fringe, another one on his back. It’s nice. It’s a warm touch._

_“Alright, let it all go, Lou,” Harry says soothly, and God this is very embarrassing._

_Louis coughs, his stomach finally empty. At least, he hopes so._

_“I’ll never drink ever again,” he whines, letting out a groan when Harry helps him stand up._

_“We all say that,” Harry whispers, flushing the toilet and helping Louis sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Alright,” he sighs. “Here, drink this.”_

_Louis blinks down at the glass of water Harry is holding out. It’s the plastic goblet glass Louis uses when he brushes his teeth._

_“Thanks,” he manages to say lowly._

_“Do you think you can brush your teeth, at least, before going to bed?”_

_Louis nods slowly, because his head is still spinning a little. “I’m dizzy.”_

_“I’m not letting go of you,” Harry reassures him with a soft smile. “Never.”_

_When Louis’ head rests on his pillow a few minutes later, it feels like a liberation. Sure the whole room is still very much spinning, and so he feels like he’s laying down on a mechanical roundabout carousel rather than a bed, but it feels good. Harry has managed to take off his trousers, but Louis won’t let go of his shirt._

_“Alright, Lou,” Harry says quietly, his soft voice sounding like a lullaby to Louis’ ears. He brushes Louis’ hair away from his eyes. His touch is soft, and Louis wants to kiss him. “Sleep well.” Louis’ eyes are closing by themselves, and he wants nothing but to fall into a deep and heavy sleep._

_So he does._

_The only thing he remembers for sure is strong warms enveloping him safely._

**

Louis wakes up from his nap feeling much better. The clock on his nightstand reads four in the afternoon, and even though it’s way past lunch, Louis’ stomach is grumbling for food. Apparently he didn’t have enough pancakes. (Five is never enough, no matter what Harry says.)

Louis finds Harry in the kitchen, standing in front of the sink and doing the dishes. There are a few glasses left to clean, and Harry is rather focused on the task he’s doing. Nonetheless, Louis breaks his concentration by wrapping two arms around Harry’s waist, his torso touching Harry’s back. Louis’ mouth breathes near Harry’s ear. 

“Thanks for taking care of me yesterday night,” he says softly, afraid of breaking the silence somehow. He kisses Harry’s cute right ear for good measure.

Harry turns off the tap, waggling his hands in the sink to dry them. He turns his head a little, Louis’ lips skimming across his cheek. “You’re very welcome, boyfriend.”

Louis huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, I was quite a mess last night.”

Harry purses his lips, humming in agreement. 

“Hey,” Louis drawls out in mock-offence. “You’re supposed to say that I was not.”

Harry turns in his arms. There’s a huge silly grin on his face, the sort of smile transpiring fondness. The sort of smile he reserves only for Louis. “You were, though. But it’s okay, you’re my mess.”

Louis scrunches his nose, but he can't help the little chuckle escaping his mouth. “Yeah, okay... I'm okay with that.”

“It’s fine,” Harry reassures with a smirk, his huge hands stroking Louis’ shoulders in a comforting gesture. “You were very cute.”

Louis makes an embarrassing sound. “I was pathetic. I cried.”

Harry giggles, and there’s his dimple out again. “You did.”

“But you said you weren’t single! Drunk Me was heartbroken.”

Harry laughs again, and Louis joins him. They’re two idiots laughing in their kitchen, two idiots in love.

“I’m glad Drunk You wanted me at all costs,” Harry says amusedly. “Your words, not mine.” There’s a cocky smile on his lips that Louis wants to kiss away.

Louis shakes his head, his cheeks hurting because he can’t stop smiling, as it always has been with Harry. “Sober Me is glad I have you.”

Harry’s hands find Louis’ face, cupping his cheeks. They're still a bit wet, but Louis doesn't even care. “Can you stop talking about you in the third person? It’s irritating.”

Louis pulls his lips out. “Alright. But know that Sober Me really loves you, and he’s glad you’re not single.”

Harry exhales in fake annoyance, betrayed by his laughter in the end. And Louis is betrayed by his abiding desire, and he can’t resist any longer. He stands on his tiptoes (yes, shut up, Harry is taller, he doesn’t need to be reminded) and kisses his boyfriend passionately.

“Aw, yer two are disgustingly cute.”

Louis and Harry break apart with a groan.

“You’re still here?” Louis exclaims, glaring at Niall, who’s standing in the doorway with the most shit-eating grin ever plastered on his face. “Don’t you have a home to go to?”

Niall manages to pout. “Oi, be nice. I’m helping with the rest of the cleanin’. And Harry promised me lunch.”

At that, Louis lights up, and he almost forgets Niall. “Lunch?” he inquires, turning eager eyes to his boyfriend.

Harry rolls his eyes but grins. “I cooked peanut and sesame noodles.”

“Oh my god, my favourites noodles,” Louis exclaims delightedly, mouth agape. “Marry me.” Once again, he doesn’t measure his words. But hey, deep down, both Louis and Harry know they’re the real deal. They’ve known it for years.

“Careful,” Harry tuts. “I might think you’re proposing to me.”

Louis smirks. “All in due time, Styles. All in due time.” And he kisses Harry hungrily, ignoring once again Niall in the background.

**

**One year later**

“Hey, you beautiful thing. Wanna dance?”

Harry beams at Louis, accepting his hand. Louis’ hands wrap around Harry’s neck as Harry’s hands find their rightful place on Louis’ hips.

“I was wondering,” Louis drawls out, feigning innocence. “Are you single?”

Harry bites his bottom lips, visibly trying to hold back a smile as they keep dancing on the slow song playing in the background. “Nope, sorry. I’m married.”

Louis mock-gasps, trying to appear as flabbergasted as possible. Then he pretends to sniff. “Alright then.”

Harry shakes his head, and apparently can’t hold back any longer. He hugs Louis closer, their mouths only a few centimetres away from each other. “To you.”

Louis’ faux saddened expression melts into a huge and fond grin full of love. “Louis Tomlinson-Styles is very pleased to be married to you, then. Good lad got himself a fine husband.”

Harry’s soft and merry laughter resonates in the ballroom, and the wedding guests are too used to their behaviour of the night to be surprised by now. But hey, after all, it’s their night. They can do whatever they want.

“Shut up,” Harry says through his smile, his eyes twinkling. “And kiss me, you fool.”

Louis does.

**Author's Note:**

> **Dunno why I got them married with their two names combined... Let's be real, Harry Tomlinson sounds like it was meant to be.**
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